


Thoughts From The Underground

by PrincessNox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 05:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10404747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessNox/pseuds/PrincessNox
Summary: Brief one shot.I own the likeness of both characters featured in this story.





	

Sitting among a sea of students in various hues of emerald and black, Grace sat stabbing her soup in a thoughtless motion as her mind milled through pointless facts regarding to the subject of how dark magic was evil and it had no place in the modern wizarding society. She was rather peeved at the idea of that, the very instance of the conceived thought in anyone's mind that it had no place sent her muscles to tense in a stomach churning way.

She had to come up with a plan to draw people to the subtle art of dark magic, but she had no clue how. She needed to make sure that it was accepted by a few people to even think about putting her second thought into motion.

The long table was packed. Lennon couldn't even sit at her own seat. Annoyed, she found an empty space next to Grace. At least it was someone that she knew. 

"You know, I think that soup pretty dead with all those stabs." She jested .   
"Looks like you're deep in thought.”

Feeling slightly jolted she dropped her spoon in the full bowl of soup, almost in slow motion she watched as the murky liquid of whatever grotesque soup they had served for entrees that evening smeared itself across her white shirt. She feigned dissapintment as she pulled her wand out and cleaned herself up with a simple flick. 

Peering towards Lennon the green eyed girl smiled with a pained look across her face, in her typical Grace-like voice she greeted her friend "so sorry, yes - the soup is dead, like I wish certain people were dead" she nodded her head over to a few muggle born students sitting at the Slytherin table "dirty blood runs in our great house, can tolerate half bloods, but they look preposterously smug about being at this table".  
She made no effort to quiten her rant, making a few of their fellow Slytherin housemates nearby noticably squirm in their seats.

"Shh, keep your voice down" Lennon urged and kept her head low. "The last thing we need is bad attention on us, only magnifying the tension."   
She dare not mention her own blood status in fear of losing a friend.   
"Let's talk about something else? School?" she suggested.

Staring at Lennon blankly Graces lips pulled up at their sides, cracking the almost claylike frown that had her face almost immortalised in disdain. A low humorous yet spine stabbing laugh escaped her lipstick red lips, "what tension?" she less than eloquently spoke in a daft tone.   
She honestly did not know what her friend Lennon was speaking of, all Grace knew was what was in her own little world. 

Letting her mind wander, the Lestrange girl heard her friends question regarding school, sighing she responded "You know, I'm starting to really dislike that they don't teach Dark Arts here, sure, we can defend ourselves against it - but what about harnessing it for...." her voice had a hint of sarcasm dripping from it, like it could drown a person "good?" her giggle shattering her stone like stance.


End file.
